After Lady Yun died, Lu Tong scattered that bag of Golden Qin under the Red Plum Tree before descending the mountain.
Lady Yun was right, no antidote herbs grow on Luomei Peak. Sometimes, fate is sealed from the very beginning.
Lu Tong knelt on the ground, reaching out toward the cluster of pretty little flowers.
They seemed little bigger than the winter jasmine, brilliantly golden, identical to the illustrations in the books. Amidst the snow, the branches were lush, the bright colors trembling ever so slightly in the breeze, illuminating one's eyes.
Lu Tong gently touched them.
This cluster of flowers, which she thought would never sprout, bloomed on their own after she left and after the wind and snow had filled the air, proudly blooming with vigor beneath the cold wind and snow.
As she looked on, for some unknown reason, her eyes suddenly grew hot, and tears fell.
...
"Snap—"
A crisp sound echoed as she stepped on the snow-broken plum branches on the ground.
